


Acid mixed with alcohol

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort Sex, Enemies With Benefits, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Kiss With a Fist, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Rough Sex, ace Kyoutani, captain Yahaba, kyouyaha as third years, messy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think they cannot be good for each other. That they're better off apart than together. However, after a loss, Kyoutani and Yahaba find ways to comfort each other. They might not be the picture-perfect, happy lovey-dovey couple, but how they are with each other works for them. It's messy, it might seem unromantic for outsiders, and some teases go beneath the skin in a bad way. It's still better to be together than even think about being apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acid mixed with alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Title is inspired by Natalia Kills' 'Nothing lasts forever', and there’s no acid or alcohol anywhere in this fic. I hope the meaning is clear at the end .v. Slight future fic. There’s a fight, so ye be warned for violence, as well as verbal abuse (from both sides). I think on a scale to how good-bad they are for each other, this is definitely bad. However, I really liked writing them like this. Also this is Kyouyaha. I like them to switch sometime, but somehow it doesn’t happen in the same fic ww (but there’s always mention of it, same here at the end~).
> 
> Originally, this was the second time I wrote them .v. I saw a prompt in the hq!! hols and followed it up with the person, but it turns out this fic is wayyyy too erotic and violent for their liking (and I ended up writing Gift). I know the tags seem SO BAD but, they really love each other. They just show it in weird, rough and messy ways.

After months of getting to know him, it’s easy to read Kentarou. Everyone could read him, when he shows his emotions so open and raw. One look is all it takes, and Shigeru sends his vice captain Kindaichi to the bus, saying he’ll follow soon. Turning around, Shigeru makes a beeline past other teams. The stomps follow after him, and it isn’t until they’re at a closed off changing room area that Kentarou turns him around and pushes him against the wall.

“You’re a shitty captain.” Kentarou’s shirt is drenched with sweat from playing five sets and losing three. They played the InterHigh preliminaries finals against Karasuno, and their new ace, Tanaka, had bested Kentarou in every way. After all, the baldie’s hotheaded ways were always overtaken by an incredible calm in tough situations, something that Kentarou lacked. However, Shigeru wouldn’t let him speak like this, and he spat back his own truth.

“And you’re a shitty ace.” Back to the wall, he welcomes the storm that whirls his way, all teeth and nails and curses. They can’t even kiss in their haste to get their clothes off, at least as far as getting their shorts down far enough so they can maneuver. 

“You’ve got the shit?” Kentarou groans at Shigeru’s neck, any fear of being found lost when he bites the soft flesh there. Shigeru cannot nod when the teeth don’t let go, and he pushes a tube at Kentarou’s stomach. 

“Of course. One way or the other, we’d end up here, wouldn’t we?” Shigeru was quite accustomed to Kentarou’s after match practices, which included a winner’s kiss and victory sex. Or when the worst happened, biting teeth and after defeat fucks to leave their frustration which each other, to hide it from the team. For them, they had to be strong. Even when they felt like weak little shits unable to go to nationals _ever_ at all.

“You know me well.” 

“Please, I know you best.” Shigeru says, turning around without needing the push from Kentarou. The slick fingers open him up easy, and the laugh at his neck betrays the underlying emotions. 

“I can say the same.” 

It’s a composed, silent, and above all unrelenting manner. Shigeru loses himself in the harshness Kentarou gives him, the fast pace good enough for him. He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to feel. He only needs Kentarou to give his best outside the court, and in the only other thing they sync well with.

The hall echoes with the sloppy sounds, the slaps of skin, their breathing controlled. Kentarou, whenever he reaches his own orgasm, remembers to take care of Shigeru’s too. The hand grabs his half-hard cock, and Kentarou slows down long enough to get Shigeru on the same level he is, careful to make them come at the same time. If only so he doesn’t have to suck Shigeru off (which he would, always, demanding the same caretaking in return if Shigeru blows his load first).

No one notices that they’re more disheveled. Eyes are cast to the ground or to the window when they return to the bus. They splashed some water on their faces and bodies before changing into the long-sleeved jerseys. Sitting in the back row, Kentarou sits on one side, while Shigeru sits on the other. 

Halfway home, Shigeru’s phone buzzes with a mail, asking him to stay the night. 

He mutters ‘fine’ from behind his hand, seeing Kentarou’s silhouette in the window.

*~*~*

If Kentarou could have a say in this, they would fuck all night. Shigeru slides off him, ignoring the hands holding his hips in a tight grasps. For good measure, he plants his palms on Kentarou’s warm and sweaty chest, to keep on the floor when Shigeru stands. 

"Need a breather this early Yahaba?"

"I need a break, and some rest." Shigeru finds his sweatpants under his blanket and puts them on, not even trying to find his boxershorts at this point. Behind him, Kentarou crouches towards him, hands on the waistband. 

"Who said I was done with you yet?" It's not as much a question as a challenge, but Shigeru doesn't rise to it. He swats the hands off his person, going for the nightstand where he'd placed bottled water earlier. 

"Hey, I'm talking to you." 

Shigeru didn't turn when he took a sip of water, and he opens the window to let the fresh air fill his musty room. His toes touch Kentarou’s bag. Dirty at the edges and frayed, the zipper broken, the insides filled with filthy magazines to keep up appearances and a pack of condoms sticking out. 

"I never know if you're deaf, or just too stupid to listen to whatever I say that you don't like to hear. I said I am done." Shigeru takes another sip before he screws the top closed and puts it back on the small table. He tries to ignore Kentarou’s indignant chuckling.

“What, you want me to take my frustration out on someone else?” 

The word ‘someone’ hasn’t even left Kentarou’s mouth. In a speed filled with rage, Shigeru’s hands grab the first thing he could find, and he throws Kentarou’s open bag full force at the asshole sitting on his floor. Half the stuff flies out, and it pleases Shigeru’s anger to see the pack of condoms and one volleyball shoe crash into Kentarou’s face. 

“You want to leave?” Shigeru keeps his voice silent, as much as he can hiss the subdued edge out of his system. Kentarou slides his bag and the contents spill off his stomach, where they lands with a soft thud. “Fine. Fuck off and don’t come back, you bastard. Take your shit and go.” 

He expects a fight. Its so visible in Kentarou’s eyes when he gets up, and slides his shorts up, teeth showing through snarling lips. Like a magnet, he takes a few steps to get to Shigeru, who can only turn around in time for Kentarou to push him against the window. The sill's uncomfortable edge pierces Shigeru's lower back. There are no hands on him now, just Kentarou’s entire body. His face is in his, their noses brush, but there’s no kindness or comfort to be found there. The man in front of him seethes, his entire body vibrating, restraining forces sizzling under his skin. The only reason he’s standing still is because he’s searching for something in Shigeru’s eyes, who stares straight back and has no idea why Kentarou hasn’t lashed out yet. He’d welcome it, to do something else than getting his ass pounded for once. 

“Hit me.”

“W-what?” Shigeru blubbers, eyes blinking fast . There’s been many times Kentarou had asked for a punch without knowing he did. To actually hear him ask felt crazy. He’s usually a little shit who works hard and has become invaluable for the team. The times Shigeru had sighed and had wanted to lash out in a punch cannot be counted, but to be asked, to request something like that...

“You can’t expect of me to stay conscious long enough to re-remember all that shit. So c’mon, punch me as hard as you can. Knock me out.” Kentarou is serious, his eyes waiting to find Shigeru’s answer and compliance. All Shigeru can offer in return is perplexity. 

“You do your nickname honour, Kyoutani. You are mad. I’m not going to hit you.” Before he can think of how much he always wanted too, Shigeru is treated to Kyoutani’s grin, a dirty one he puts on whenever he’s ready to fight. 

“Don’t be shy. I know how much you yearn for it. C’mon, shithead. Fucking take your anger out on me the way you really feel like.” As to provoke him, Kyoutani circles his hips across Shigeru’s sweat pants, violating the ‘I need a break’ non-agreement he never said yes too, or indeed, considered valid. Trying to get past him, Shigeru ends up pushed against the open window again, Kyoutani’s grin hardening.

“What are you fucking waiting for? I gave you a bloody invite.” Not in the polite sense, that is. Kyoutani continues to get on Shigeru’s nerves, whose skin heats up after the sex cools down, and not even the open window can give him relief. He doesn’t try to push Kentarou, knowing the stance they’re in gives him a disadvantage. 

“Fucking hell, Yahaba, you’re really pissed off, aren’t you? I didn’t make the points when I had too. I scored three outs in the second set. Don’t you want to kick me to pieces for that!?” Kentarou creates some distance, if only to give Shigeru a good aim at his jaw. He opens his arms, fingers twitching, telling Shigeru to get a move on already. Standing his strenuously pacifistic ground, Shigeru folds his arms across his chest. He opts to take the verbal provocation, which quickly turns into abuse.

“Oh, I see, you don’t think it’s my fault, that it? A captain has to burden the consequences, after all. Fine with me.” Kyoutani rolls his shoulders, his neck cracking to one side before his eyes flash. “You’re a shitty setter! Half the things you tossed to me where useless. Of course I couldn’t get good points off of them, no one on the fucking team could! Kindaichi and that other first year brat, they’re too shy to open their goddamn mouths to tell you. Watari did a better job as you! But he has to be off court half the time, so that didn’t make any goddamn difference.” 

Shigeru’s heart pumps in his veins, louder than before. He feels a throb in his throat, which makes him nauseous. The provocations’ only aim is to make him lose himself. Kentarou only wants to see his bad side, the one neither of them can control once it leaks through the cracks of his humanity. Unmoving, Shigeru’s eyes water, but he doesn’t look away. He needs to let him know without a word said that his tirade is useless. 

“You’re gonna just stand there with your mouth shut? You didn’t keep it that tightly closed unless I fuck your ass harder than you like. It looks the exact same, too. Are you biting your tongue, Yahaba? Are you trying not to think how you’re not even 10% as good as Oikawa, how all you’ve been really good at is grovelling for attention and keeping your ass up in the air-” 

Any good man would break. Shigeru cannot count himself among the ranks of calm-headed people anymore. He launches his arm backwards, to fuel up the punch and make it hurt, before throwing it forward and have his knuckles connect to the sharp edged jawline. Kentarou cannot clench his mouth as he’s punched, and his whole balance is lost when he staggers backwards. Shigeru’s breathes hard, watching the fingers who open him up at other times, touch the burning skin, wiping at the bloody lip. Looking up, Kentarou grins at him. _That’s more like it._

“Either your ass or your mouth, the only thing you’re good for-” Kentarou had found a way to make Shigeru ram him to the floor, a thick thud heard when they fall over Kentarou’s stuff lying around. Acting as if he’s fighting back, Kentarou scratches at Shigeru’s arms, trying to push him off. Shigeru’s blind with rage, can only think of how to keep him where he is and where he needs him (holding his shoulder down, not letting him go) and how to hurt him. Holding his breath, he caves. One hit after the other slams into Kentarou’s face, his jaw, brushing over his lip. Knuckles bruise, slicken up with spit. They are cut open by teeth, small scrapes going as far as the side of his fist.

“That’s what I’m good for!? Huh? You can’t even do that much, pisshead. You can’t even _fuck_ me right.” He wants to punch Kentarou again, hoping he can get the eye, when his upper body is off-balance and pushed back. Kentarou’s swift bend enables him to take Shigeru’s arms and propel them both against the side of the bed. The sweatpants he just put on slide low below his ass, and Shigeru feels nothing but contempt and want. Fueled by his frenzy, he lets Kentarou’s blunt nails scratch his arms open, before he wriggles one arm free to hit him upside the head.

The bleeding mouth is at his throat, open-mouthed, haphazard bites slick with tongue and something else. He moans Shigeru’s name when he enters him. As the hands are on his hips now, to guide Shigeru down on top of him, the latter’s arms are free to continue. He leans back and slaps Kyoutani’s ear and face. They push their lips on top of each other when he breathes out and shows Kentarou how much he hates him. Kentarou smiles, small drops of blood trickling from his bleeding lip. The sight does more to Shigeru than the cock inside of him, and he moves forward, hands on the neck (trying not to strangle him), and kisses the lips. He bites the side he didn’t hit, then licks across the mouth to taste the blood. 

Kentarou’s hips move faster, thumbs circling and bruising Shigeru’s hipbones. The amazing strength in the ace’s thighs shows when he lifts them both up and onto the bed, staying between Shigeru’s wide legs. Bending over him, Kentarou’s lips close around one nipple, to lick, to suck, to drive Shigeru over the edge faster. He lets his stomach rise to meet Kentarou’s, his shoulders pressing down, a sigh coming from his lips as his eyes close, his other nipple being teased as well. Kentarou’s hand slides over his arm, his chest, across his throat, two fingers (the same who opened him up, the same who touched the bloody lip, the same who saluted him when he was named captain) sliding over Shigeru’s open mouth, inside. Shigeru bites on them, as hard as he can, to bring Kentarou as much pain as he craves. The cry of pain interrupts the moans, and is followed by a laugh.

“God, you’re the best. Not just your mouth or your ass. E-everything about you,” Kentarou hides his face on the chest, his hips snapping forward,“is all I want.” The fingers slide out, spit wiping from Shigeru’s forehead into his hairline. Kentarou is all over him, his harsh exhales breathing out into Shigeru’s mouth. Shaking fingers grab the hair, but don’t pull. In mimicking motion, Shigeru’s palm takes a hold of the sweating neck, unable to take a grasp at the short hair. Instead, he lets the sheen of sweat moisten his fingers. Its all over their bodies, dripping from their faces, collecting in the back of their knees and in the soft of their elbows. ‘The best’ would indicate that there are others. As if anyone else could understand what Kentarou needs, how he wants it, whatever pleases him, as if there’s even one person other than Shigeru in existence to take his frustration out on, after all. Shigeru doesn’t smile. There are no others.

“I’m the only one, Kyoutani.” 

Their noses brush and they close their eyes when Kentarou slows down the pace for as long as he feels like, to delay his orgasm. It had been a lie when he said that Kentarou didn’t know how to fuck. It wasn’t always perfect, but if he tried, he’d take Shigeru to a higher plane of ecstasy, making him moan and sing. They opened their eyes at the same time, Kentarou closing the distance to kiss, as imperfect as they could while they lost themselves in each other.

“I love you.” He whispers, bleeding lip smiling, eyes fierce but honest. Shigeru keeps his face and body still, the reply coming easy.

“I hate you.” 

Tilting his head when he’s deep inside Shigeru, Kentarou closes his eyes when the other clenches around him. The hand leaves the silky hair, to ball into a fist on the mattress. The way Kentarou breathes on top of his lips gives Shigeru full body shudders. The same goes for the laugh, huffed atop of Shigeru’s chest, as squinting eyes glance back at him. “Isn’t it the same thing?” 

And just maybe, Shigeru can believe that it is. 

“Turn.” Kentarou tells him, his hands on Shigeru’s ass, holding him apart and pressing the butt-cheeks together as he damn well pleases. Shigeru shakes his head as his eyes close, whispering ‘Fuck’ to the wall behind him when his head falls back. 

“No,” Its breathless and a mere whisper. Kentarou hears it all the same, his teeth grazing past Shigeru’s jaw to whisper in his ear.

“Turn, fuckdamnit. I can get the angle you like.” 

If Shigeru had time to wipe his face with a hand, he would have done so right now. But as he reads Kentarou’s movements down below, he knows he wouldn’t last much longer. Even as sluggish as he felt, Shigeru rolls to his side, on his knees. Kentarou slips out of his ass for the moment. Shigeru puts his hands on the wall, breathing harsh and raspy. If Kentarou would try to push his face down, he’d kick him in the stomach and off the bed. 

He smartened up, and doesn’t try. 

From the back of his shoulders to the small back where Kentarou sometimes leaves room, to the thighs in between, their feet aligning; as much as Kentarou’s front connects to Shigeru’s back, they stay which each other, as close as two fucked up assholes like them can get. One arm slides over Shigeru’s stomach, hand splaying over the abused hipbone. When Kentarou enters, he bites Shigeru’s neck, groaning at the renewed sensation. Shigeru’s adds to it by clenching his ass, the slick sounds between them slow and unsteady. Kyoutani has a hard time holding back. Removing his teeth from the skin, he slides his tongue over the bitten neck, up to the back of the ear, nibbling at Shigeru’s earlobe. Shigeru burns with the touch, which spreads fire all across his body. Wherever Kentarou goes, he leaves marks. He drinks him like liquid, an addict lapping at every drop, worshipping as much as he can while cursing him all the same. His other arm-the right one- he plants from his hand to his elbow on the wall, holding the limb right besides Shigeru’s face.

“That’s the offending fucking hand that cost you victory, Yahaba. Aren’t you angry with me?” 

Shigeru’s eyes lose focus when Kentarou hits the right spot inside of him. He breathes out over the hand, unable to either nod or shake his head anymore. The bone of the wrists pushes at his lips, and Shigeru follows the unspoken wish. He slips his mouth over the wrist, teeth all around the hard bone. Whenever Kentarou’s cock brushes the most sensitive spot, Shigeru bites, muting his moans. The pace is still measured in slow thrusts, which snap forward hard and remove inch for inch. 

“I hate you.” The side of Kentarou’s head brushes Shigeru for attention. Waiting until the latter looks at him, teeth from the red wrist, as much as he can to repeat those words. “I hate you so damn fucking much. Every single thing about you, Shige.” 

His head is gone without waiting for the reply. Shigeru resumes spreading spit over the wrist, bites again and the thrusts come quicker. Kentarou’s forehead slides from the side of his head to the back, and Shigeru feels the nose behind him inhaling his scent. He loosens the grip on the wrist, licks the abused, burning red parts. It makes Kentarou halt and look up for a moment.

“I love you, Kentarou.” He doesn’t feel his face anymore, overcome with emotion, not giving a shit about any of it, anymore. They’ve gone past the point of hiding. At least Shigeru has. Kentarou grunts and rams his forehead against the back of Shigeru’s head, rolling his hips forward, making sure to exploit Shigeru’s inside nerves as much as he can, to hear the maximum of what the voice crying out can give. When he gets it, when Shigeru’s moans become loud and without a trace of shame. Kentarou’s forehead slides back over the spine, into the neck, whispering how much he loves him, hates him, how much he needs him. Letting his arm bend backwards, Shigeru’s hand slides over the back of Kentarou’s head, making sure the connections stays. He feels wetness on his neck, which isn’t sweat, spit, or the moisture of breathing, not even a drop of blood. 

“Kentarou,” He whisper-moans the name, crying out when the cock inside of him rams the sweet spot. If that’s all that breaks Kentarou apart, then so be it. Shigeru joins in, his moans interrupted only by his raspy explanations. “Shit, I love you so much.” 

The words repeat, all aimed at the the wall, closing his eyes and opening his mouth in silent gasps, which reach a higher, near inaudible pitch when he comes. Kentarou’s hands are both on his hips again, after he checks that Shigeru came. Only then does he take him relentless from behind, Shigeru pushing his rear towards him every time. Until he makes Kentarou bite his neck again, this time to mute the moaning cries when he comes inside of Shigeru. 

Spent, Kentarou slides off and out him, falling on his back, breathing loud to catch his breath. After a moment, Shigeru follows. With his back to Kentarou, he lies on his side, pressing his head on top of Kentarou’s biceps. Behind him follows a little movement, Kentarou shifts, to make sure that his side connects to Shigeru’s back, to feel him lie next to him. Shigeru’s shoulder edges beneath Kentarou’s axle, and he doesn’t think about what trickles out of his ass or how sweaty they are. The last thing he sees are Kentarou’s uncurling fingers, the fight finally out of them both. 

*~*~*

The beginning of October is soft this year. The temperature changes between 17-22 degrees celsius max, and there’s barely any wind to blow more cold their way. Shigeru relaxes against a tree in during his school break, trying to fit extra knowledge for cram school in his head. It doesn’t work as long as there’s a volleyball next to him. He found the little guy away from home on the way here, and had every intention of returning it to the gym. The team would have to answer later on why there was a missing ball on the school grounds. 

Putting the book aside and sliding his back off the tree, Shigeru lies down, takes the ball, and tosses to himself. He catches the ball on his fingertips and thumbs whenever it reaches his forehead, and tosses it straight up without touching. However, it grazes the tree, so Shigeru has to slide himself further away for maximum perfection. 

If Kentarou is a dog, then being in his vicinity should have rubbed off on Shigeru. At least to be able to smell him before he sees him. 

Instead, the young heart has a minor heart attack when a figure jumps over his head and spikes the ball mid air. Kentarou lands, without his feet ever touching Shigeru, on the grass, watching the ball roll down the hill. Once it’s gone from his sight, and Shigeru sits up, Kentarou turns around to him, hands in his pockets. “The fuck are you doing here, Yahaba?” 

Blinking, Shigeru reaches behind him to grab the book, ignoring the way Kentarou gives his languid body a longing once-over. “Maybe if you’d check before you speak, you’d see a book.” Shigeru waves it in front of Kentarou, who huffs a curse under his breath. 

“As if. Practice tossing to me, if you have so much free time.” 

“I don’t have any free time.” Patience running thin, Shigeru waves the book again, more dignity in his smile than in the flapping pages. Of course it had to be in the one minute he gave way to what he wanted to do instead of what he needed to do, that he was found dilly-dallying by Kentarou. 

“So what, you’re retiring after all? Prelims are in-”

“I know when it is and you don’t freaking have to tell me, Kyoutani. You might want to remember from time to time who your captain is. Now shut the fuck up or piss off, because I’m not going to spend every waking minute in your freaking space trying to practice as much as we can.” Inhaling, Shigeru opens his book, unable to read a single word when Kentarou flops down in his lap. 

“The fuck did I just say?” He snaps at Kentarou, his book closed on top of the other’s hands, which are balled on Shigeru’s stomach.

“That you’re a wimp. Oh and that I’ve gotta remember who my captain is, who is, funny enough, also my fuck mate. Fine, don’t toss. Wanna make out then?” Not even listening to the answer (which would have been ‘no, fuck off, I don’t have time for your face’), Kentarou takes the book and flings it behind him, eyes straight at Shigeru. Without a hint of shame, Kentarou’s nose scrunches up, inhaling. “Or do you wanna fuck? I’ve got lube with me.” 

Giving him a look doesn’t work anymore. Shaking his head is no option. Instead, Shigeru continues to be rude. “You’re heavy, muscle brain. Now get off me.” 

“Y’mean ‘get off you’? C’mon Yahaba, you know as well as I that that’s no fun.” Kentarou’s grin, his sleek words and his getting-more-smug-by-the-second face all get to Shigeru in ways he wouldn’t like to admit. He doesn’t need to give Kentarou any ego boosts. 

“Listening to you speak isn’t either, yet here I am listening to your crap.” Shigeru holds still when Kentarou kisses him, lips crushing lips. Its Shigeru who breaks it off, biting Kentarou’s bottom lip. “Not here, now get your ass off me, Kyoutani.” 

“Shh, you wish my ass would be on there.” Kentarou rocks forward, hands on Shigeru’s throat to make him stop moving so he can kiss him. “Maybe I’ll let you,” He whispers, eyes locking on. “If you’d let me bang you against this tree.” 

“Maybe I will anyway, if you’d finally confess that you’d want it, too.” Shigeru looks away, not needing to see whatever kind of answer displays on Kentarou’s face. It’s only a half truth that he knows, so the rest is just a bluff. Wishful thinking. He doesn’t speak, for the moment, looking far off in the distance. 

“Anyway, that’s not what I came to talk to you about. Whatcha doing after graduation?” 

Blinking, Shigeru’s head turns back, eyeing Kentarou. He slides off from Shigeru at last, planting his ass between the legs. “Well?” 

“Dunno. University, perhaps. Don’t know which one yet.” 

“Are you staying in Miyagi?”

“I don’t know, maybe? Not with my parents though. What’s with the questions?” Sometimes, Kentarou will stare back at you until you’re chickening out. And sometimes, he cannot look at you with all the brashness and attitude that build inside him. Relishing the rare moment when Kentarou has to look away, Shigeru knows the shrug is fake, as well as the feigning ignorance.

“I’ve been avoiding the counselor lady for some time now. Thought I need a good bullshit story or she’ll nag me forever. Guessed that if I’d take half of your story, she wouldn’t bother me.” Head turned to the side, only one eye looks back at Shigeru. “So you’re leaving the place you’re living? Exchange it for what? Some crappy, asshole tiny room on campus? Is that how you wanna live your student life, Yahaba?” 

“Instead of what, living with you perhaps?” Shigeru laughs, the hilarity of it spilling over smiling lips. What he didn’t foresee was Kentarou’s reaction. Tensing up, Kentarou pushes him, hard enough to make him fall back to the grass. 

“Fuck off, Yahaba.” Standing up, Kentarou makes an attempt to walk away and hide his true intentions, but Shigeru didn’t become what he is to Kentarou now by letting him do and leave as he pleased. Stretching his arm out, he catches the ankle mid-movement, and brings the escapee to the ground. When he crouches over him, Kentarou’s leg is up, aiming a kick to Shigeru’s midriff. Hands on Kentarou’s shoulders, Shigeru watches it, curious if he’d resort to violence over such a simple matter. Kentarou looks at Shigeru, angry, and then to the leg. Giving up, he places his foot on the grass, letting Shigeru continue to slide over him to sit on his stomach.

“What, you- you really want me to live with you?” Shigeru asks, but he doesn’t get confirmation from the face which only glares at him. There’s no denial either. Hands on the chest, balled to fists, Shigeru cannot make out the heartbeat the way he usually would, not without moving his hands. Instead he breathes in, deep, before uttering his demand. “Say it. The thing- say it to me. Say that you love me.” 

Kentarou sits up straight, keeps eye contact with Shigeru, who searches his eyes. “I hate you. Every single fiber of your being and the way you make me feel, asshole.” 

“You mean how my asshole makes you-” Shigeru’s tease is bitten through, his bottom lip captured and slipped in between the soft mouth. Despite the openness they’re in, Shigeru lets himself fall into the kiss, sitting on top of Kentarou’s lap when the pull at his waist beckons him. 

“And?” 

“Fuck. Yeah, fine. But you have to get a job.”

“What makes you think I won’t go to university?” Kentarou grins, his hands undoing Shigeru’s belt, and open his trousers enough to slip hands over the firm ass. Shigeru clenches it, shaking his head. The poor university that would have to take in Kentarou. His sorrow is with those future peers. 

“Lube is in my bag, you exhibitionist freak.” 

“Exhibitionist freak enabler.” Kentarou sits him up against the tree, undoing the trousers and pulls them to the knees. 

“By the way, you’re getting that ball back.” 

“Tch, what do you think I came looking for it here in the first place. Now shut up and-” Kentarou shoves his fingers inside Shigeru, who clenches his teeth and breathes out sharply. Kentarou kisses his lips, waiting for them to open and slide his tongue in, then curl his fingers to make Shigeru moan out loud. “You, too. Say it.”

Shigeru holds him by the neck, eyes fluttering when the fingers curl just the right way inside of him. “Fuck- I hate you.” Kentarou smiles, biting his top lip again, lubing himself up and putting the tip of his cock at Shigeru’s entrance.

“Damn right you do.”

Living together would be the worst idea, but then again, what they’ve done in the past half year has been just that.


End file.
